


Empathy

by Aqua_Diamond2904



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 09:52:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19293316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aqua_Diamond2904/pseuds/Aqua_Diamond2904





	Empathy

The once pristine and prestigious house was silent, haunted by a broken family. There was an empty space where the chandelier once hung, a barely noticeable crack in the smooth marble floors. The games room had splinters of wood scattered everywhere and if you looked closely enough you could spot the dents in the pool table. The couch looked worse for wear, worn and ripped from stray bullets. What would dad think if he saw the state of this place?

  
Klaus chuckled halfheartedly, slouched against a column as he surveyed the damage from Hazel and Cha-Cha's quite...rude intrusion. It seemed so long ago now - it was dizzying to think it had been less than a few days since it happened, when for him it had been so much longer.

  
So much longer.

  
He stood in the arch, lost at what to do. He wasn't even sure if anyone was there. He had no clue where Mom was, and he was not overly enthusiastic to see Pogo. He was more inclined to go unnoticed again by everyone. At least, almost everyone.  
It was too late to force that thought away. Klaus could faintly see the scene darken with soot and gunpowder and death. The room suddenly seemed that much smaller, the ceiling crumbled away to reveal fire streaking across the sky turning it to a hellish blaze. In the corner of his eye, he could've sworn he saw a broad figure sprawled on the ground, chest still.

  
Distantly Klaus was aware he had started to shake, feeling the tremors wracking his fingers uncontrollably. He stiffened, pointedly averting his gaze so all he could see was a haze of embers. He crossed his arms and started to march off to his room. He didn't get far though, when he accidentally knocked into one of dad's trivial trinkets. It teetered over the edge, dropping and shattering on the floor with an ear-piercing screech.

  
Klaus froze, the sound echoing in his eardrums and taking up a permanent residence in his mind. The scene had become much more vivid, the hideous stench of burning flesh made him want to double over and gag. The screams of his fellow soldiers was deafening and almost as painful as the lump in his throat. He could hear his own voice, screaming a precious name.  
_Cover_  
_I need to find cover._  
Klaus scrambled out of the main room, gaze unseeing as he frantically tried to find shelter. He ducked into the kitchen, breath picking up unsteadily as he dived under the table, narrowly missing banging his head on the chairs. He clamped his hands over his ears in a desperate attempt to block out the noise, and screwed his eyes shut until all he could see was a blinding orange behind his eyelids. Klaus believed he might have been rocking a bit from his position, curled up in a ball. It was becoming unbearable, until he heard a sharp voice tear through the flashback.

  
"Klaus. The year is 2019. You are at the house. You are safe". That's all it was, but it was enough to snap him into some form of coherence. The fog begun to clear, leaving only his heavy breathing in the silence. He crawled out from beneath the table to pinpoint the source.  
Little Fives, sitting at the table with two slices of bread layed out in front of him. He was purposefully ignoring Klaus, giving him the time to compose himself and straighten out from the curled up ball on the floor. Klaus swallowed, mouth dry, before opening to inquire.  
"How did you know? I mea-"  
"I know what panic attacks and flashbacks are like Klaus, especially as a result of PTSD. Believe me." He didn't even ask why Klaus had had one in the first place, or what it had been about.  
It clicked that Fives had been through so much, probably even more than him if he really did see the apocalypse in the future. He couldn't imagine a desolate world where it was only you, fighting to survive. Klaus sucked in a breath, before flopping onto the chair next to him.  
"Well little brother-"  
"I'm mentally older than you Klaus"  
"-are you going to hog all the marshmallows? You always did make the best sandwiches," Fives quirked an eyebrow at him.  
"Make your own, or go and have some oats or something - you're an adult now" Klaus gasped dramatically, slapping a hand loudly over his chest.  
"My own brother! I thought you cared!" He pouted. Fives glanced back at him, his posture displaying him as a sneering aristocratic, but the small smile on his lips betraying him.  
"I don't care about any of you, you could all drop dead for all I care." His eyes revealed his true feelings, genuine and concerned, even as he stood up to retrieve another bag of marshmallows. They sat in the quiet, munching on the fresh peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches.

  
No more words needed to be said.


End file.
